Delicate, Fragile, Vicious, Poisonous  Beauty
by Crystaline-Crimson
Summary: Kisame knows how people work, and he definitely knows how beautiful people work. They're all the same. But even if you know you'll get heartbroken, you can't exactly stop yourself falling for them. [KisaIta, KakaIru and a bit of ItaIru]


Disclaimer: I don't own Kisachan, or Itachichan OR Iruchan (or anything else naruto related, apart from some trading card things). Though I really wouldn't mind owning Iruchan. –snuggles pretend Iruchan plushie, because she doesn't have one yet T-T-. Anyway. Those are the main three people in the story, with a big helping Kakachan in there too. Oh, and it's alternate universe. No, don't leave! I just, uh, conveniently forgot to mention that it was AU. n.n' Trust me, you can hardly notice. Apart from the setting they're in… Anyway, please enjoy!

This is for the 100 theme challenge, by the way. Number one, the theme 'Introduction', so that's the official title of the story. But the title here is "Delicate, Fragile, Vicious, Poisonous - Beauty" - as you can probably see. :3 This is a oneshot, don't expect it to be taken further. :3

Introduction

Kisame still had a lot to learn about the school, though that was hardly surprising. After all, he'd been there for… What, an hour, most? And that had (for the most part) been spent in a field with about thirty schoolchildren, trying to get them to freaking _listen_. He liked kids, generally. They were fun, they had boundless energy and they could run for ages – he liked that. And they were mouldable, too. You could shape them into being just whatever you wanted them to be, so long as you caught them early enough, told them what to want to be and got them to start working towards it before they got old enough to decide their own mind. Manipulative, yes, but Kisame knew that it might be all very well for that bunch of kids (teenagers at the most, though more than likely not – some of them seemed about eight) to say 'I wanna be a doctor' or 'I wanna be a famous athlete' or 'I wanna be an actress' or even 'I wanna be beautiful' but it would never mean anything, they'd never achieve anything unless they were pushed towards their goals – and pushed forcefully.

So young, so naïve, they had so much to learn. They couldn't be a doctor without studying _so hard_. You can't be an athlete without training and training and training. When that girl grows up, she'll learn that she can't be an athlete without having a little bit of talent first – and good looks, too. Harsh reality. And saying 'I wanna be beautiful' is a lot easier said than done. And even if you are beautiful, it comes with a price. Everyone wants to be you, or date you or know you or hurt you.

Kisame may or may not have been stupid (most people, including himself, assumed the latter; brawn and no brains is the general theory) and he definitely had a lot to know but he did know that every beautiful person he'd ever met had had to deal with their situation, and grow to fit it. The mindset seemed to be: they want to be you, you let them be your servant; they want to date you, you see whether it'll be fun to break their heart instantly or toy with them for a bit longer; they want to know you, let them because the most people know you, the more people want you and the more power and attraction you have and the more hearts you can break; they want to hurt you – hurt them first.

Every beautiful person he'd met had been the same. And every _goddamned_ time… Every time there was someone special enough to take his breath away, he always made the mistake of thinking that _maybe this time_ he might have a chance. And _every goddamned time_…

Kisame had never been beautiful before, he wished he knew what it was like, wished he knew if there was ever an exception to the rule because he hadn't seen one yet. He was tall - he knew that - with short black hair and blue eyes that were a little dull. He had the blessing of height and muscles but that didn't make him special. He was just pretty much the _personification_ of 'brawn'. Brawn and no brains and no beauty and nothing to set him apart from all the other guys who could offer their protection to the delicate, fragile, _vicious, poisonous_ fangs of those who had beauty. And brains, they didn't even get a look in. He had a lot to learn about the school, but he knew how people worked. He didn't need to learn about that.

Staff room, staff room. Here it was. Time to start fitting in, time to try and make sure his time as a PE teacher in this school wasn't going to be completely…

Oh god.

Who the hell was that?

The thirty (barely) year old found himself blinking a little bit gormlessly at the man in front of him. Jesus, how old could he be? Kisame'd say twenty, tops; maybe less. And… _Holy Christ_, this man/boy was… Well, if Kisame was the symbol of brawn then this boy, this boy was beauty. It was almost like Beauty and the Beast. And the Beast just could not stop staring. He looked almost like a girl with those eyelashes that looked covered in mascara, yet natural at the same time - because why shouldn't this beautiful boy (feminine yet wonderful and, well, _sexy_) have completely natural eyelashes like _that_, framing eyes that were an unusual shade of crimson.

Why shouldn't he have crimson eyes – this deadly angelic figure could have anything he wanted. Nevertheless, Kisame had to deliberately remind his brain, _contacts, they've gotta be contacts. _His hair that was _darker_ than black and longer than any boy had a right to grow their hair.

"May I help you?"

The voice was pleasant, polite, with an underlying tone of malice that Kisame simply didn't catch.

"I'm Uchiha Itachi, I assume you're the new PE teacher?"

"H-H-Hoshigaki Kisame..."

He probably stuttered a bit more than that, but he wasn't really paying attention, not really… So his name was Itachi, huh? More polite words were exchanged, though mostly from the boy in front of him that was just way too inhumanely _beautiful_.

After meeting Itachi, who had to excuse himself shortly after to attend to a detention (Kisame got the vague impression that the kid who'd annoyed Itachi enough for the man to sacrifice his lunch hour was not going to make the same mistake again), the rest of the day seemed to pass by uneventfully. He met a few more teachers such as Hatake Kakashi, an English teacher who was still reading that same damn book when Kisame came back to the staff room at the end of the day, looking up when the taller man entered the room and noting aloud with a hint of surprise that he had, in fact, just missed his last two classes.

There was Iruka, another English teacher, though he seemed to take his job a little more seriously, especially when it came to teacher relationships, as he persistently became more and more irritated at the flirtatious and suggestive comments that Kakashi would send him whenever they were in the same room. He was quite cute, Kisame noted, but also rather dull. Brown hair and grey eyes behind simple frames, slightly skinny body behind smart clothes – the sort of person you might simply miss if not for the scar over his nose. The only interesting thing about him, really. Why Kakashi was so obsessed with him, Kisame had yet to learn.

There were a few more, such as a science teacher with a nasty cough (he looked contagious, so Kisame stayed far away from him), a technology professor with (what looked like) a needle hung loosely from his mouth, absentmindedly sorting out the medication for the previous man. He dully noted a female language teacher with a rather impressive rack – he only noticed her became her eyes and hair were the same colour as Itachi's, who he had been looking out for the whole day. There were also a couple of secretaries who never seemed to stop laughing (or groping one another when not too many people were watching them), a white-haired English teacher who just _leered_ at everyone and an interesting geography professor with a what looked like a curtain over half of his face – he didn't speak much English, so it was a good excuse for Kisame _not_ to talk to him, an excuse he grabbed onto gladly.

But he didn't see Itachi until the very end of the day, at which point he almost ran over to the boy, saying something stupid that he couldn't remember afterwards. Polite conversation was exchanged only roughly at first, but then the younger man seemed to relax after looking at his watch for the fifth time. More conversation while Kisame was mentally preparing himself for the question that kept popping up in his mind.

Someone was coming towards them (he couldn't quite see who yet, he couldn't recognise the person though they were probably a teacher with their adult height and late departure from school). He would have to say it, say it quickly.

The words were rushing out of his mouth, practically stumbling and falling on their little word-faces as he nervously saw the face of the intruder coming nearer. Iruka, Umino Iruka. The dull, uninteresting English professor. Oh. He didn't have anything to fear, then. He'd thought that it was some other teacher that Itachi perhaps had a lot more interest in talking to than Kisame. He almost laughed inside, but his mouth never wavered from position, its almost horrified state that he'd said those stupid words. He and Itachi had almost identical expressions; a raised eyebrow and an almost amused expression.

Why had he said it? It was so stupid! Simple, a simple question, but obviously stupid. Asking this man - this _beautiful_ man - if he wanted to get _coffee_ some time. Kisame didn't even _like_ coffee, but it was the only way he could phrase what he wanted to ask, what he wanted to say. It was the only way to get out the phrase, very deeply hidden in the question he'd asked: 'my heart feels like it's gotten multiple stab wounds whenever I look at you'.

"I'd love to, Kisame – but maybe later, okay?"

_I'd love to, Kisame_.

He tried to pretend for a nanosecond that that was the only thing said, and a small smile appeared on his face as the paler figure said those words, but it quickly lessened even further. A noncommittal wave as the shorter boy turned, waving with his own slender, delicate, fragile hand, his own vicious, poisonous movements.

Kisame watched as Iruka, that dull, work-obsessed Iruka, and the amazing man exchanged a hug, and he felt a sinking sensation in his chest. He knew what was happening, but he didn't want to admit it. Denial seemed so perfect; he could turn around and pretend it wasn't happening, but something kept him rooted to the spot. He could only watch helplessly as laughter filled the air and the two feminine men started walking. Helplessness turned into a drowning sensation as pale arm slipped round a tanned body, hidden behind smart clothes. The drowning started to pierce his lungs as a tanned arm slipped round a pale body, hidden by clothes that Kisame _knew_ would look just _so much better_ off of him than on him.

That pale arm slipped down a little further and he heard protests of embarrassment that didn't really seem to mind it at all and Kisame took it as a very good cue to turn around and leave, shutting his eyes as he walked to try and get the image out of his head.

---

Kisame knew a lot about people, he knew that he knew a lot about people (he also knew that he knew that he knew a lot about people, but that's completely irrelevant) and despite how stupid he might look, to have obvious brawn (and 'therefore no brains', right?) such as his, he was completely certain of his flawless knowledge of the workings of the human mind.

But what he knew he still had a lot to learn about was how to apply his knowledge to every day life.

How did one who knew every thing about the maliciousness and cruelty of beautiful people still find that they were falling hopelessly and helplessly in love with the most beautiful of all? And if he _knew _(and if he knew that he knew) that Uchiha Itachi was irrevocably taken and completely uninterested in him, then why couldn't he stop himself falling further and further in love with the man, who he knew would only enjoy his amusing company for a few short minutes to waste a bit of time, then completely throw him out when a more interesting, or attractive person came along.

Yeah, Kisame figured that he still had a lot to learn about how to get rid of being in love, and he hoped that sometime soon he'd start to learn how to stop falling at least.

But judging by the way that Hatake Kakashi still looked hurt _every_ time Iruka shooed him off, and yet _still _tried to change the younger man's mind (and feelings) about him _every_ time he saw him… Judging from the way that they shared their idiotic and bordering-on-compulsive behaviours when it came to the ones they couldn't stop falling for…

Judging from that, Kisame started to realise that maybe soon, he'd also realise that there just wasn't a way to stop falling.

He still had a lot to learn.

And thus his life began at Konohagakure High School.


End file.
